


Angel's Commission Corner

by TrademarkLies



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Demons, Faeries - Freeform, High Fantasy, Revenge, Violence, commissions, mythological creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-11-27 12:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrademarkLies/pseuds/TrademarkLies
Summary: Just commissions. A summary will be posted on the chapter notes so you know what you're getting into before you read a certain section.





	1. Commissions?

Hello, I'm Angel! This work is a collection of commissions I've received and/or traded for art.

If you are interested in commissions, you can DM me on Discord at TrademarkLies#5373. 

**Prices **

_Normal _

$1 per 100 words (ex. 1247 words would be $12)

_Gore/Violence _

$2 per 100 words

_NSFW_

$3 per 100 words (I reserve the right to refuse whatever I deem unfit to be posted)

_Other Fees_

Distribution Rights [ie. I will not post it online and you have sole permission to post it. You do not have permission to resell my work even if you buy this]: $10 

Obscenity Fee [ie. if you really desire something that I refuse to write, you will be paying a fee. I still won't post it here, however]: $40

**Rules **

My work is fully edited and reviewed by beta readers to ensure quality. If you prefer to bypass the beta readers, please tell me beforehand. 

Half of the payment is required up-front and is non-refundable. If you back out halfway through, _you will not receive your deposit back._ Once the work is completed, you will send the rest of the payment and I will release the work. 

You will be given two snapshots of the progress of your work. If you do not like the progress, I will redo it for you. The third time I have to rewrite, however, there will be a $3 fee per additional rewrite. 

I will need 5 days minimum to work on your commission, and large commissions will need extra time. 


	2. Xiolia's Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone possessed with the spirit of a bloodthirsty wendigo exacts revenge on someone who killed her twin sister. Includes: Gore, Major Character Death, Violence

Snow whirled around like a white frenzied ghost, wreaking its icy fury on the inhabitants of the frozen forest. The sun hadn’t shone for weeks - it was just darkness and frost. Every sane beast had retreated deep underground to escape the bitter winds of tendrils. 

But Xiolia was never sane. 

The woman-turned-monster raced through the forest, the hot scent of  _ murderer  _ in her nose. She could still see Desponia’s smile, hear her laugh, just a minute before the explosion that had ripped her twin away from her forever. She could see Aneria’s smile as she killed the one person precious to Xiolia. They had been hunted like lowly animals because of their bloodline, and the fox had finally caught her prey. 

Well, tonight the hunter had become the hunted. Xiolia would be the victor in tonight’s dance of death. 

Hot, black fury burned through Xiolia’s body as Aneira’s scent became stronger. How long had she waited for this day? Over six thousand years. Thousands of years spent in ever-growing rage and mercilessness, until she was nothing but the demon that consumed her. 

_ Tonight,  _ Xiolia thought, a frenzied smile on her face,  _ tonight I will avenge you, Desponia. Tonight… you can be at peace.  _ She didn’t stop to ask if Desponia wanted this. The wendigo spirit that possessed her soul told her that, yes, this is what her twin would want. 

Xiolia’s vision went scarlet as she rounded a copse of trees and Aneria came into view. The Nephilim stood on the edge of a frozen lake, staring up at the sky. 

At the sound of Xiolia’s furied cry, Aneira whirled around and stared at her, confusion then surprise then  _ sweet terror  _ crossing her features in the few seconds it took Xiolia to close the distance. Her mutated body slammed into Aneria, claws ripping and tearing at the girl’s clothes, trying to rend the flesh underneath. 

White-hot pain seared into Xiolia’s chest and she leaped away with a roar, nimbly landing on her paws as she began to circle Aneira. The accursed brat had summoned holy fire, using Xiolia’s only weakness to drive her away. 

They stared at each other in silence, the only sounds coming from the crackling silvery holy fire and the whistling wind. Xiolia could see the disgust in Aneira’s eyes, mingled with pity. It only served to enrage her more. How  _ dare _ Aneira look at her with anything other than fear?! 

Rearing on her hind legs, Xiolia roared before charging towards Aneira again. This time the Nephilim was ready. She cast the flames towards Xiolia, but she was ready. Jumping over the brunt of the blaze, she endured the pain from the residual fire and focused all of her rage on Aneira. Her claws tore at everything they could, her sharp fangs attacking whatever her claws couldn’t. 

Aneira didn’t take just it, however. Flames crackled around Xiolia’s head, burning her ears and face, and a dagger embued with holy magic flashed out and stabbed into Xiolia’s chest. Xiolia found herself on the defensive half of the time, her desire to live long enough to slaughter Aneria outweighing her innate bloodlust. 

The two tumbled onto the frozen lake, though even their combined body weight wasn’t enough to crack the thick ice. Xiolia growled but slipped in a puddle of blood (was it hers? Or Aneira’s? It didn’t matter), allowing Aneira to squirm away from her as she fell and hit her jaw on the sheet of frost. 

Xiolia resumed circling, feeling a dark giddiness rising up in her. The sweet taste of blood filled her mouth and made her itching to attack again. How would the Nephilim taste after being beaten into submission, begging for her life? Being Xiolia’s dinner was the least she could do, after all. The pain from the fire and stab wounds were nothing, outshined by the wicked adrenaline running through Xiolia’s veins.

Aneira, on the other hand, looked worse for the wear. Deep gashes covered most of her body and blood was soaking her ragged clothes. Despite this, defiance burned in her eyes.  _ How lovely it will be to shatter that defiance… I want her to suffer like Desponia did. Feel her life wither way slowly.  _

A savage smile rose to Xiolia’s lips and she started forward. However, her foe wasn’t dead yet. 

With a cry, Aneira raised her hand and cast one final wave of fire. At this range, Xiolia could only curl in to protect her face and stomach, letting the fire burn across her back. The pain brought tears to her eyes, but the sound of cracking ice made her head shoot up. 

The heat from Aneria’s holy fire had melted the ice and caused it to crack!

A dark plan formed in Xiolia’s mind.  _ What better way to destroy her? I’ll take her away from the heaven she loves so much!  _ With a final battle cry, Xiolia charged over the cracking ice, using her claws not to slip, and slammed into Aneira. 

The Nephilim was too focused on not cracking the frozen lake any more to notice Xiolia until it was too late. Aneira found herself smashed into the ice, her skull cracking as it hit one of the still-solid pieces. Xiolia stared down at her, her lips curling into a demented smile.  _ Finally.  _

“M-monster.” Aneira spat out, blood dribbling from her lips. “You’re a monster! Look at you!”

“ _ You made me into this, _ ” Xiolia growled out through her mutated wolfish snout, “ _ the only monster here is you. _ ” With that, she raised Aneira up and slammed her down again. This time, the ice completely gave way and plunged both of them into the inky depths of the lake. 

The water was frigid, but Xiolia’s desire for revenge kept her warm. Sinking her claws into Aneira, she dragged the Nephilim down.  _ Holy fire won’t save you now…  _ It didn’t matter if Xiolia drowned alongside Aneira. She would finally be reunited with Desponia, in whatever afterlife awaited them. 

But that didn’t seem to be the case. Aneira’s mouth opened and shut rapidly as she lost air, and Xiolia found it didn’t hurt to not breath. Was it shock, or the wendigo spirit? Either way, it didn’t matter. Xiolia watched in sheer, twisted joy as Aneira fought desperately for life. 

Then slowly the light faded from Aneria’s eyes, her body becoming lax and lifeless. Xiolia felt a surge of joy, then panic, as the pain from her wounds and lack of oxygen crashed over her. She swam towards the surface, feeling the wendigo’s spirit accelerating her speed until she shot above the surface of the water. 

Xiolia paddled to the edge of the lake, dragging herself out. Bloodied water dripped behind her, stark against the cold snow. She barely noticed. 

Now that the initial joy of revenge had drained away, Xiolia felt… as empty as she ever had.  _ It’s time to hunt.  _ The wendigo whispered. 

_ But… I’m done. My revenge is over.  _

_ You will never be  _ done,  _ my dear. My hunger is eternal. Together, we will feast.  _

Xiolia nodded slowly and started walking. A human settlement… it wasn’t too far away. Aneira was dead. There was nothing left to do. 

_ Nothing to do but feed the demon.  _


	3. Sevael Enters Aurora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sevael escapes her mother's grasp and ends up in Aurora, the world of magic.

Sevael couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder every two seconds.  _ Mother is going to kill me,  _ she thought, but at the same time, she didn’t try to stop the grin that tugged at her lips. When she had gotten the letter from her father, Sevael couldn’t believe it. 

_ Kid,  _

_ If you’re reading this, I finally snuck this past those annoying angels. Do you know how hard that was?! They always act so prim and proper, but they’re all assholes underneath those pretty robes and feathers.  _

_ Right, anyway, I want you to come here. To Aurora, I mean. I want you to see how beautiful it is here, you know, get your head out of the clouds. Literally. I can’t imagine you spending all your life stuck in some heaven filled with dusty books and cranky angels and who knows what.  _

_ Go down to our tree - the willow by the river, remember? When I brought the phoenix to you. I’ve put up a windchime. It doesn’t sound with the wind though. It’ll only work if a faerie is approaching. I can’t come get you personally - pesky humans want me to get some sort of license or whatever (you know, a waste of time) - so I’m sending a couple of servants to collect you.  _

_ I want to see you.  _

_ Love, Dad _

The sound of windchimes drew Sevael’s attention away from the piece of parchment in her hands.  _ Windchimes!  _ Her heart skipped a beat and she stood straighter.  _ I hope… I hope they like me. _

“H-hello…?” Sevael called out. “Did my father send you?”

“ _ That’s  _ Fendril’s daughter?” A snide voice said and Sevael’s heart sank. 

A fair woman with eyes the color of fresh lavender seemed to appear out of nowhere. Her slim body and delicate features were enough to draw the eye, but her clothing was what set her apart from any human. It was a dress made of pale blue gauzy material that shimmered in the moonlight, wrapped snuggly around her body and fastened with lilac-colored gemstones. Her pale blonde hair was pulled into lovely ringlets secured by the same gems that adored her dress. 

The most startling beautiful thing, however, wasn’t the woman’s looks or dress or hair - it was the emerald-colored wings that seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Sevael was so entranced that she almost didn’t see the second faerie approach. 

This one was also fair and blonde, though it was a man, and his eyes were a vibrant orange. The clothes he wore were drastically different - he looked more like a hunter dressed in black furs than a storybook faerie. His face, however, had the same look of contempt as the woman’s face did. 

“I guess.” The male faerie said. “She’s not much to look at.” He walked over and pinched Sevael’s arm. “You’re muscled. Honestly, don’t you have any respect for your appearance?” 

Sevael fought back the tears that were burning in her eyes.  _ This  _ was her big reception? She had thought maybe she would be friends with the faeries who were picking her up, or at least they’d treat her  _ civilly.  _ Now she was doubting going to Aurora at all. She liked Earth, and her mother wasn’t all that bad. 

_ No.  _ Biting her lip, Sevael steeled her will.  _ I can do this.  _ She stared at the two faeries, trying her best not to tremble or cry. “I’m Sevael. Who are you?” Maybe if she was nice, they’d be nice too. 

“Why should we tell you?” The man scoffed, but the woman shrugged. 

“I’m Edmee, and this is Florian. What kind of name is  _ Sevael _ ? It sounds stupid.” 

So much for being nice. 

Sevael went silent as the two began talking as if she wasn’t there. They walked off, not even bothering to make sure Sevael was following behind. She had to practically jog to keep up with their long strides. 

“We’re here,” Florian said, stopping suddenly. Sevael nearly careened into him and stammered out an apology, but he just glared back at her until she went quiet. “Stand over here and stay quiet.” 

Sevael slowly walked to where Florian was pointing, feeling small under his critical orange gaze.  _ Do I really want to-  _

Before she could even finish her thought, Sevael was surrounded by dancing, shimmering colors. She gasped at the radiance of the light.  _ It's like… what did Mother call it? The Northern Lights! Do the faeries have something to do with that…?  _

Even though Sevael knew the idea was silly, she couldn’t help but think it. It was just so beautiful. When she looked at the ground, she realized the lights were originating from a strange, swirling pattern.  _ A faerie gate.  _

Then, with no warning, Sevael found herself standing in a strange corridor. It was solid and liquid all at once, like everything was made of some sort of disorienting syrup.  _ Wha-  _ Everything was flickering between the forest she had just come from and a dream-like haze. 

Sevael wanted to fall asleep then and there, but she could see Edmee beckon her. It took every bit of willpower in her body to step forward. But she finally took a step after what seemed forever. Then another step. Every time she moved, the flickering became less common, showing the forest less and less. Instead, the image of a brightly-lit ballroom surrounded her.  _ It doesn’t feel real, though.  _

Swallowing hard, Sevael tried to refocus on the faeries. They seemed to be watching her impatiently.  _ Is it real? Knowing them… probably.  _ She continued to walk the agonizingly slow pace, but eventually, she was standing beside Florian and Edmee. 

Like someone shutting off a light, the haziness that surrounded Sevael disappeared without a trace. She fell to her knees, feeling a wave of nausea come over her.

“Don’t hurl.” Edmee’s voice broke through the nauseous haze and made Sevael look up. Instead of the forest she had just been in, she was in a beautiful room that appeared to be made of…  _ tree bark?!  _ However, upon closer inspection, Sevael realized the walls  _ were  _ a tree. A  _ living  _ tree. What appeared to be thread-thin ropes of silver laced the walls, creating designs that - quite literally - glowed. 

“We haven’t got all day,” Florian said impatiently. “Let’s go already.” 

Sevael hastily nodded and followed the faeries. She couldn’t help but watch her surroundings with awe. Floating orbs of lavender-colored mist provided enough light to see all the beautiful silver designs on the walls. Here and there, animals and other faeries milled about. 

Many of them turned to Sevael and watched her with curious gazes. After a couple of moments, she realized their wings were permanently visible, even without moonlight. 

“Your wings.” Sevael couldn’t help but say. “They’re… there.” 

“Of course,” Edmee rolled her eyes. “We’re not on Terra anymore. We don’t need moonlight.”

“Didn’t you learn  _ anything? _ ” Florian sniffed. “Honestly, I don’t understand why we had to go out of our way to pick you up. You’re not pretty, or smart, and-”

“And she’s not a servant, unlike you!” A cheer voice interrupted Florian. Both he and Edmee froze, their faces paling slightly, but Sevael felt her smile return. 

Fendril was leaning casually against a wall, glaring at the two servants. His wings, unlike their monocolored ones, started as a sapphire color at the top and slowly turned into a pale pink, and they were fluttering with obvious irritation. 

“Oh, speechless?” Fendril stepped forward, looking more and more annoyed every second. “Honestly, you act all high and mighty, then when you face someone like me your tail goes between your legs like a common mutt! Why don’t you scurry on to your master before I have to drag you by your collars?”

Sevael watched as Florian and Edmee bowed, stammering their apologies, before practically bolting away. Fendril turned to her and smiled, but the nausea that had been boiling up in Sevael’s body this entire time finally bubbled over. She knelt, pressing her hand against her mouth in a desperate attempt not to puke. 

“Hey, hey.” Sevael felt her father hold her shoulders. “It’s okay. You’ve got gate sickness. Just breathe.” 

Sevael tried to do as Fendril said, but it was hard. Everything felt fuzzy around her, as if she had a fever. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and then she passed out. 

* * *

When Sevael woke, she was on a bed of soft silk. The luminous orbs of mist around her had a pale blue color, rather than the lavender from earlier. 

“You’re awake.” Fendril’s face appeared in Sevael’s line of vision, his features slowly becoming less fuzzy. He smiled down at her. “You’ve been asleep for hours.” He helped her sit up gently as she tried to refocus. The room was similar to the hallways, with a tree for walls, but it had the sharp smell of herbs. The only furniture was the bed she was on, a small bedside table with a pitcher of water, and a small basin. 

“Hours? Really?” Sevael’s head felt like it was pounding. “Wh-what’s wrong? You said… you said… uh…” 

“Gate sickness.” Fendril supplied, grabbing a wet rag out of the basin and putting it on Sevael’s forehead. It was mercifully cold. “It happens to most people when they go through the gates for the first time. You’re not used to the magic in this dimension and it’s making you sick.” 

Sevael couldn’t quite grasp what her father was saying, but she nodded anyway. “Okay. I-” her eyes fluttered shut. “It hurts.” 

“I know,” Fendril said soothingly. “Just sleep for now. Once twilight comes, you need to see Narcisse.” 

Before she could respond, Sevael was unconscious again. 

* * *

When Sevael awoke this time, the glowing lights were a lovely dark violet. She struggled to sit up, which drew the attention of Fendril, who was reading a book while perched on a chair that hadn’t been in the room before.  _ They must have brought it in… wait. How long have I been asleep?!  _

“Wh… I… hi Dad.” Sevael found that even trying to talk was exhausting, but her father didn’t seem to mind. 

“Hey, kid.” Fendril ruffled Sevael’s hair affectionately. “It’s time to go see King Narcisse.” 

Panic flashed through Sevael, though she could only manage a discontented squeak. Fendril seemed to understand anyway and he gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be. He’s the only one who can stop your sickness. Otherwise, it could take weeks or months, even  _ years _ , for you to get used to it.” 

Sevael briefly contemplated just asking to return to Earth, but ignored the thought.  _ I’m here now. I just have to man up. Or woman up. Faerie up?  _ She gave her father a small nod and he smiled again. 

“Good. Let’s go. He’s waiting for us.” 

Fendril’s words made Sevael panic even more, but she couldn’t do anything other than slowly stumble out of bed. Her father supported her as best as he could, but even so, it was still a slow, painful process. 

After close to twenty minutes of stumbling, Sevael and her father finally made it.

Taking a deep breath, Fendril turned to his daughter. “Sevael.” He said sternly. “I don’t mean to scare you, but Narcisse is… well, like his name implies. You must show the utmost respect to him, okay?” 

Sevael nodded mutely, her heart pounding. Respect?! She could barely walk or talk, let alone bow and praise someone! Before she could protest, her father was pushing her through an archway. 

The light increased tenfold, and Sevael squinted as her eyes refocused. When they did, she was absolutely awestruck. 

The room appeared to be the top of some massive tree, the roof made of branches open to the starlit sky. Orbs of various colors - pink, blue, green, too many to count - floated across the room, mostly swirling around a large… throne? 

It wasn’t like anything Sevael had expected. She had been expecting something extravagant, made of silver and gold and fine gemstones. Instead, it was a  _ tree.  _ Or rather, branches of a tree woven together to form an intricate throne-like structure. Flowers seemed to bloom all over it - lily, iris, poppy, and more that Sevael had never seen before. A pile of white feathers was curled around the throne, seeming almost out of place. 

A handsome man -  _ faerie, _ if the beautiful wings curling around him meant anything - was casually sitting on the throne, one leg folded across his knee. Like most other faeries, he was fair and blonde-haired, though his eyes were a beautiful fuchsia color. Unlike other faeries, however, his wings seemed to shimmer and change color, going from the color of a sunset to a swirl of purples and blues in an instant. 

Still, despite the beauty, the man had an aura of power and cruelty, like a rose hiding poisonous thorns. 

“Fendril,” the man -  _ King Narcisse?  _ \- said, his voice tinkling like wind chimes, “is this your daughter?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Fendril knelt, bowing his head. 

_ If Dad is kneeling… this must really be the king.  _ Sevael slowly attempted to do the same, though her fatigued body was struggling against her. 

“Stop.” King Narcisse raised a hand. “Your body is still exhausted from the gate. Come here.” 

Sevael tried to walk forward but stumbled more, and her father had to help her again. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d probably feel extremely embarrassed at needing this much help, especially in front of a king. 

Up close, King Narcisse was even more intimidating. Sevael’s legs were shaking, and she wasn’t sure it was because of her exhaustion. He watched her with piercing eyes like he was trying to pin her to the spot. 

After a long minute of silence, King Narcisse glanced down. “What do you think of her, love?” 

To Sevael’s shock, the haphazard pile of feathers began to move. A head slowly rose up, impossibly huge, and her heart stopped. 

A graceful creature stared down at Sevael with luminous pale red eyes. It was so large that her immediate thought was  _ a dragon,  _ though it was covered in feathers rather than scales. Its head alone was bigger than her body, and when it leaned forward to sniff her, Sevael realized that it could probably eat her in one gulp. 

Still, Sevael felt no fear. Just pure veneration. It had an aura of  _ wildness,  _ like a summer thunderstorm, and when it looked into her eyes, she could sense great intelligence. 

Sevael was so entranced that she didn’t see its tail move until it was too late, not that she could have avoided it anyway in her weakened state. A long, scorpion-like tail ending with a deadly-looking barb wrapped around her waist, lifting her like a toy. It had been hidden behind the throne, so Sevael hadn’t expected it in the slightest. 

Repressing a shriek, Sevael squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable  _ chomp.  _

It never came. 

When she opened her eyes, the creature’s muzzle was almost touching Sevael’s face. Before she could scream, the creature’s tongue flicked out and licked her as a dog might. It was rough and scratchy, covered in soft barbs, and almost as long as Sevael’s whole body. 

Not knowing whether to feel offended or honored, Sevael just stared at the creature until she heard King Narcisse laugh. “She likes you.” He called. “Set her down, my love. I need to cure her sickness.” At his command, the creature set Sevael right in front of the throne.

Sevael lost her footing almost immediately, but King Narcisse caught her with one hand. “Stay still.” He warned, putting his palm over her sternum. “This will hurt, but only for a minute.” 

Then the worst pain Sevael had ever experienced wracked through her body. White-hot fire seemed to burn under her skin, burning her alive, and she screamed. Her body wildly twitched involuntarily and somewhere in the back of her mind Sevael worried that she was looking like an absolute fool. 

Without warning, everything suddenly became better. Sevael felt as if she had been plunged into the coolest, most refreshing water in the world. When she opened her eyes, everything was clearer and the exhaustion that had plagued her body was gone. 

“You’re okay.” King Narcisse said, sounding plesantly surprised. “I’m glad. Now, Fendril, I’d love to catch up, but I’ve spent enough time here already.” 

As Sevael climbed to her feet, she saw her father bow and hastily copied him. “Thank you.” She whispered quietly as Fendril practically dragged her out by her arm. When they were in the hallway, he sighed and let go of her. 

“Well,” Fendril said with a smile, “at least he likes you. As much as he can, that is.” He ran a hand through his hair, his old self seeming to return already. “As he should. You’re  _ my  _ daughter, after all.” 

Sevael nodded slowly. “Um. So… what now?” She asked quietly. “I’m sorry. I don’t really know what goes on here. Those… those two from earlier weren’t very descriptive. They really only wanted to insult me, I think.” 

Fendril laughed and patted Sevael’s head. “Don’t worry.” He said gently. “They’re just stuck up and annoyed that they’re low class. Never listen to them. Lots of people are eager to meet you.” 

Sevael let a smile rise to her face. “Really?” Her father nodded and she felt her excitement begin to return.  _ I think… I think I’m going to like it here.  _ “I’m thrilled.”

Fendril smiled back. “Is there anything you want to do first?”

Sevael paused and glanced back towards where they had come. “Can you tell me… about that creature?” Her father’s smile faltered slightly. 

“The White Beast. I don’t know very much about her, only that she’s some rare creature that Narcisse tamed. Or so he says.” Fendril glanced down at her. “She must have sensed something good in you.” 

Sevael blinked. “How do you know?” 

Fendril cleared his throat, looking a bit awkward. “She… well, you weren’t eaten.” 

“What!?” Sevael yelped, her hands covering her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Fendril flinched, “but… she likes you. I’ve never seen such a positive reaction from her. I think you’ve made a friend.” 

Sevael laughed lightly, feeling like she had just dodged a bullet of some sort. “I see.”  _ A friend, huh? Aurora sure is a weird place.  _

But Sevael couldn’t help but grin.  _ But I think I like it.  _


	4. Sevael's Interview

Sevael shifted in the carriage, halfway between bored and anxious. Fendril had promised her over and over that everything would be okay, even though he couldn’t be there, and that the interview process was easy. 

With a small sigh, Sevael settled back into the velvet cushions and decided that, no matter what, she could handle this. She fought to break away from her mother and come to Aurora. She had dealt with the snickering and odd glances from the other fairies. She could do  _ anything.  _

Even sitting in an otherwise empty carriage for hours on end. Sevael knew her father had been too busy to go, but going without  _ anyone  _ had turned the trip into the most boring experience of her life. Since the entire country of Dorikva was shrouded in protective magic, the Faerie Gates were only able to send her to the edge of the country. As much as she had wanted to ride one of the winged horses -  _ pterippus,  _ she had been told - to the school, the stablemaster had deemed it too dangerous for an untrained rider to take one. 

Sevael knew the stablemaster had been right, but that didn’t make her any less bored.  _ Maybe I should have waited for someone else to come along. Maybe I could have made a friend.  _ Too late for regrets now. After a few minutes of silent grumpiness, she decided to take a nap. 

When the carriage rolled to a stop, Sevael jerked awake and looked around. Light still filtered through the window, but it was… dimmed.  _ Is it already dusk?  _ However, when she moved the small curtain aside, she saw that the flat plains the carriage had been moving through had been replaced by towering trees that blocked out a lot of light. 

In front of the carriage was a massive wooden gate, and attached to the gate was an even bigger stone wall. There were muffled voices from outside, but Sevael couldn’t make them out. Just as Sevael’s curiosity was getting the best of her, there was a deep rumble and the carriage started moving again. 

The contrast of the school grounds to the untamed forest just outside the wall was stark. The lawns were dark green and lush, perfectly maintained. Towering buildings made of polished marble and lined with gold dotted the courtyard, imposing and beautiful at the same time. Only a few people were present, tiny in comparison to their surroundings, which disappointed but didn’t surprise Sevael. Everyone was out for summer break, so it made sense that the school was all but deserted. 

The carriage stopped again, this time in front of the building in the center of the courtyard, and the driver silently opened the door for Sevael. “Headmaster Frost will see you now.” The man said gruffly. He reminded Sevael of a weasel with his sharp eyes and sharper temper and lacked any bit of friendliness. 

Sevael quietly thanked the man as she slipped out of the carriage before hurrying to the building. After a moment of indecision, she opened the front door and stepped inside. 

Even after spending over a year in the living home of the Fairy Tree, Sevael was utterly unprepared for the sheer presence of  _ magic.  _ It electrified the air, making the hair on the back of Sevael’s neck stand on end, and she could sense the overwhelming force all around her. 

“Please, do not stand in the doorway.” A clipped voice called out. 

Sevael blinked, looking up. “I’m sorry, I-” her voice was cut off by an impatient huff. A woman - if that’s what you could call her - was tall and willowy, with almost translucent skin. Her eyes were completely black, but they were the only parts of the woman’s body that weren’t a shade of green. 

“You’re still standing there.” The woman said, clearly growing irritated. “You cannot stand in the way of doors.” 

“Y-yes, um, ma’am?” Sevael said the words quickly, not quite sure how to address the woman, and darted to the wall. She mustered up a smile, hoping the woman would be kind now that she wasn’t breaking the rules. “I’m looking for Headmaster Frost.” 

The woman didn’t smile back. “Fourth door on the right, with the moon insignia.” With those short, clipped words, she practically stormed away. Sevael stared after her, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. She’d never been treated so briskly.  _ Is everyone so… rude?  _

Sevael took a deep breath and stood taller.  _ King Narcisse helped me get here. I won’t let him or my father down. Even if everyone is a jerk.  _

The door the woman had mentioned wasn’t too far down the long corridor and Sevael found it easily. It was made of dark oaken wood, as were all of the doors, but this one had a silver crescent moon insignia that spanned across the entire door. It was a masterpiece of work, on par with the fairy weaving Sevael had desperately wanted to learn. 

As soon as Sevael put her hand on the silver doorknob, the door swung open silently. The room inside was warm, lit golden by the large window that dominated one of the walls, and decorated in white and gold. 

For a moment, Sevael was stunned by the sheer feeling of  _ peace  _ that emanated from the room. It reminded her of a meadow on a clear summer night, with the stars shining overhead.

However, Sevael’s reverie didn’t last more than a few heartbeats. “May I help you?” A voice that sounded like clear water asked. 

Sitting at the desk under the window was a person that Sevael couldn’t quite decide if they were a man or woman. Their hair was a pearly white color and reached down to their waist, though their face was youthful and pale, with clear blue eyes. After a moment of silent debate, she decided he was just an effeminate man. 

“Well?” The person prompted again, his voice filled with kind amusement. “Did you come here just to stare?” 

Sevael gasped at her own rudeness and gave the man a small bow. “I’m sorry! My name is Sevael. Sevael Wiseri. Are you…?” 

“Headmaster Frost.” The man stood and motioned to one of the plush chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat. I’ll make some tea.” 

“Um, you don’t have to-” 

“I insist.” Headmaster Frost gave Sevael a kind smile. “I find that a nice cup of tea helps to soothe the nerves.” He walked to a small table and, with a single touch, lit a small fire under a kettle. 

“You can cast silently?” Despite her nervousness, Sevael felt a bit of curiosity light within her.

“Of course.” Headmaster Frost was selecting herbs from a small shelf. “What kind of tea do you like, my dear?” 

“Uh, peppermint, if you have any.” 

Headmaster Frost nodded, then continued on. “You can only cast while singing, isn’t that right? It was one of the notes in your file.” 

Sevael felt her cheeks heat up a bit.  _ Does he think I’m weird?  _ The other fairies certainly did. “Uh, yes, but I… I want to learn silent casting too. I know my magic isn’t as good when I sing, but I just can’t help it. When I try to cast silently it just goes a bit wonky or nothing goes right and-” She abruptly cut herself off when she realized she was rambling. 

There was a sound like wind chimes and it took Sevael a moment to realize it was the sound of the headmaster’s laugh. “‘Good magic’ is a subjective term.” He said calmly, not even a hint of mocking in his voice, and placed a small plate of fluffy-looking biscuits on the desk in front of Sevael. “If it makes you happy, well, isn’t that good magic?” 

“I… I guess.” Sevael’s nerves began to unravel, put at ease by the kindness in the headmaster’s voice and his gentle aura. “I was always told that only strong elementalists could cast silently.” 

“People say things like that to make themselves feel better.” Headmaster Frost replied. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in what a prideful person says. After all, a peacock will always tell everyone his feathers are the most colorful, even when they’re not.” 

Sevael felt a smile rise to her lips. “I don’t think a peacock would appreciate you saying that about him.” 

“I’ve met plenty of peacocks, and, let me tell you, they’re all the same.” The headmaster said in amusement.

With a giggle, Sevael picked up one of the biscuits and took a bite. It was like biting into a cloud - soft and wonderful. “Oh! This is delicious!” 

“It’s marzipan.” Headmaster Frost said. “A wonderful dish from Uramora that will most definitely spoil your appetite. I can’t resist it, however, so I always have some on hand for myself and students.” 

“It tastes like macarons!” Sevael said as she took another bite. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered her father telling her not to eat too many sweets. She had sadly agreed, but later that night the lovely White Beast had given her a bag of chocolate candies anyways. 

“I see you like sweets too.” The headmaster laughed softly. “Don’t let Ms. Bebb know or she’ll be blaming your sweet tooth for every injury or sickness you get.” 

“Ms. Bebb?” Sevael asked curiously. 

At the sound of the kettle whistling, Headmaster Frost returned to it to pour two cups of tea. “Ms. Bebb is the head nurse here. She just left before you came in. I thought you would have seen her.” 

Sevael blinked. “The, um, the green woman?” 

Headmaster Frost laughed again. “Yes, I suppose, though I wouldn’t call her that to her face. She’s a dryad, a species native to Dorikva.” 

“Oh.” Sevael took another bite of the sugary treat as the headmaster placed a cup and saucer in front of her. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Headmaster Frost sat down across from Sevael. “Now, I suppose it’s time to get on with the interview.” 

Sevael sat straighter, the tension returning to her chest.  _ Time to get serious. This may be what keeps me from being admitted.  _

The headmaster sat back in his seat and sipped the tea, his crystal blue eyes resting on Sevael thoughtfully. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite color?” 

Sevael stared at the headmaster for a long minute before blurting out her answer. "Um, light pink!" After a moment, she blinked. "... is that part of the interview?"

Headmaster Frost smiled. “I find that the simplest questions often reveal the true nature of a person. Parents like to coach their children on the best things to say, or the students themselves will prepare for hundreds of important or thought-invoking questions.” 

It made sense to Sevael. She smiled and picked up her teacup. “What does my favorite color say about me, then?” 

“You have a bright outlook on life.” Headmaster Frost said. “A trait I like in my students. Would you please describe yourself in three words?” 

“Um,” Sevael set her tea down, “I guess… kind. And, well, forgiving…” she paused, fidgeting with her fingers, “and smart, I guess.” 

“You have a good opinion of yourself.” The headmaster commented. 

Sevael felt her cheeks began to burn. “I also have some bad traits!” She blurted out. “I, uh, don’t always think before speaking-” 

“I never said it was a bad thing, Sevael.” Headmaster Frost laughed a bit. “It’s always good to see something positive inside yourself. Many people will go their entire life worrying about the bad without pausing to consider the good.” 

“You have a lot of wisdom.”

“I’ve lived a long life.”

Sevael picked up her teacup again. “... do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” The headmaster smiled. “After all, this is an interview. It would be unfair for me to ask all the questions.” 

“What… what are you?” Sevael asked. “I mean, I know you’re the headmaster and all, but I’ve never seen someone like you before. Your aura is very… calm. You look like an elf but I get this feeling… you’re not.” Her skin began to heat up again. “Oh, Mother Earth, that was rude. I’m so sorry!” 

However, Headmaster Frost was laughing. “No, don’t be sorry. Curiosity is a good trait in a student.” He picked up his teacup and took a sip, going quiet for a moment. Sevael was starting to feel nervous again before he finally continued. “You’re right. My appearance is that of an elf, but my true form is not. Can I trust you with a secret?” 

Sevael nodded. “Of course!” 

Headmaster Frost set his tea down and offered Sevael his hand. She noticed his fingers were long and graceful, unmarred by life.  _ Like porcelain.  _ As she took it, she felt the world rush and sway around her, like she was caught in a wave. 

The headmaster stared calmly back but his image was flickering. One moment he was there and the next a graceful white creature stared back at her. It took a moment, but Sevael slowly recognized the pearl-colored coat and graceful silver horn. 

As Headmaster Frost let go of her hand, Sevael fell back into her chair. Her breathing, which she hadn’t even realized had turned ragged, slowly evened out again and she was able to take a sip of her tea to calm her heaving stomach. 

“I’m sorry.” The headmaster said soothingly. “I know looking through an illusion can be extremely taxing on the body.” 

“You’re a unicorn,” Sevael whispered as the effects of the spell wore off. 

“I am.” 

“Why… why do you hide it?” 

The headmaster sipped his tea, his eyes clouding slightly. “There are people in this world who believe my kind are animals, just as they believe your people are nothing more than tricksters. Taking the appearance of an elf tends to make things easier.” 

“Why did you tell me, then?” 

“You have the aura of someone who is very trustworthy.” Headmaster Frost said. “And, after all, we’re not so different. I’m not what I look like, and you aren’t who you say you are. At least, you’re not from here, are you?” 

Sevael’s heart stopped.  _ He knows. He knows I’m not from Aurora. He’s not going to let me in. What if he sends me back? Or worse - sends me back to mother?! _

The headmaster just smiled. “Don’t fret. Where and why you were born matters not. All I care about is your character and your heart. Sevael, do you honestly believe Dorikva is the right place for you?” 

Sevael couldn’t help but sit straighter. “Yes! I do. I’ll do whatever it takes to stay here.” 

Headmaster Frost opened a drawer on the desk. “That’s good. To be honest with you, I already made my decision before you arrived. Narcisse has a high opinion of you, which is rare for someone who’s always stuck in a mirror.” 

“King Narcisse isn’t like that all the time.” Sevael couldn’t help but protest. The king had been so kind to her since she’d arrived and it felt wrong to let someone talk about him behind his back. 

“Narcisse and I are old friends.” Headmaster Frost smiled as he placed a package on the desk and pushed it towards Sevael. “I know he can be a bit, well,  _ narcissistic. _ This is for you.” 

Sevael gingerly took the box. “For me…?” She opened it slowly as if was about to disappear. Inside was a scarlet red cloak made of smooth silk. “What-”

“It’s your uniform.” The headmaster said. “As I said, I already made my decision to let you into the school. I trust Narcisse’s judgment.” 

“Why invite me then?” Sevael looked up from the cloak. “Was there something you wanted to make sure of?” 

“Not really. The ICMEA is very strict on who gets in and who doesn’t. When students don’t meet enough entrance requirements, I invite them for an interview.” 

Sevael frowned. The ICMEA, as she recalled, was the International Council of Magical Ethics and Affairs. “Aren’t you in charge? Why do you have to listen to other people?” 

Headmaster Frost smiled, though it seemed a bit sad. “I have the title of the headmaster, and it gives me some power, but I rarely get to make any important decisions. The ICMEA employes powerful magic casters of all varieties to keep people in line.” He shook his head. “What am I saying, I shouldn’t be burdening you with these thoughts.”

Sevael offered the headmaster a smile. “No, it’s okay!” She lifted her teacup, only to find it was empty. “I mean, I’m here for the whole day, after all.” 

“That’s true.” Headmaster Frost laughed. “But why don’t you go take a tour of the school instead? I can have someone take you around the campus and you can have dinner at the dining hall. You’ll have to sleep in the guest quarters since none of our dorms are ready, but they’re just as comfortable.” 

Sevael stood and bowed slightly. “Thank you!” She turned to leave but paused. “Um, tomorrow, do I have to take the carriage?” 

“I don’t see why you should have to. Is there a reason you ask?” 

“I- um, I wanted to see if I could ride a pterippus back?” 

Headmaster Frost smiled calmly. “I will see what I can do. We have very gentle pterippi here. I’m sure there will be one fit for you.” 

Sevael broke into a grin. “Thank you! A-again!” 

The headmaster nodded and turned his attention to the paperwork at his desk. “Of course. And Sevael? I look forward to seeing you this autumn.” 

As she dashed out of the room, Sevael’s grin only grew more. She couldn’t  _ wait _ for the autumn to come. 


End file.
